On a Dimmer DayWhy is it you awake expecting day To break, the television purring dull, fractured Voices in the next room, like a humming Bulb dying in its own breath, and you wait To rise and remove it from the socket, As it dodges death in the elegiac warmth Of uncalculated flicker, and you realize Just how easily we allow the simple act of Iteration - a coiling filament drawn to tensility, Wound and charged to incandescence With no will to abate its brilliant descent Toward the frost of shadow, where even ductility is Useless, but still, when you roll it in your hands, It burnsOn a Dimmer Day
ReverenceAs he crossed in front I slowed and imagined a life for him:Reverence
The wake of his walker crashing against some pacific island. A beach landing in its own right. Bullets snapping and whining, he ran and dove, surely surefooted. He tried to remember plodding through familiar green fields, friends in close chase, the fireflies tracing constellations above his head. No use.
His aging face now blotched and wilted a flower past its time growing from cracks in pavement, escaping the depths of soil and earth, seeing f
SnapshotsI am snapshots of my past, some undeveloped negatives ofSnapshots
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, teardrop hearts in impressionable spread.
I am bus rides in morning mist, a product of that bleacher kiss,
lost in myself and hard to find confusion's cost and absent mind.
I am heavy barefoot summer nights lit with a random firefly shine and
hot-head words with holes in walls, those stubborn fights and speeding fines.
I am reflections lost in broken glass a shortened fuse and burning fast.
ComradesI set them free unintentionally, their bondage lost in hand's decree. They rise and fall like tiny gray-haired Buddhist monks past due for a shave. What it must be like to ride amongst the frigid moonlight onto the rails of inviting porch glow. You look back, your shackles falling fast to earth, and only the army of stars matters anymore. That, and your comrades, close behind.Comrades
the older stuff you wrote were not bad, but the latest really outdones.
Guess i'll be looking out for your new works.
Good day.
What you know you can't explain, but you feel it. You've felt it your entire deviant life, that there's something wrong with the story. You don't know what it is, but it's there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad.
You take the blue pill, the story ends. Your browser closes and you believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in wonderland. And, I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.
I offer only the truth, nothing more.
Take: The Red Pill
Take: The Blue Pill
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The Angry Deviant
Random Deviant
Nice work keep it up.
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